


Nameless Grace

by TrinesRUs



Series: Transformers: To Destroy [4]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Pre-War, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 03:12:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6102918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrinesRUs/pseuds/TrinesRUs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not uncommon for Greenlight to borrow Lancer's processor to work out scientific problems, but sometimes, she feels lesser to her coworkers for turning to that method.</p><p>Inspired by <a href="http://writingpteropod.tumblr.com/post/137525934084/also-i-love-elita-being-big-and-buff-and-heavily">this headcanon post</a> by <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentP">SilentP</a></p><p>It's not necessary to read the rest of the series to read this, though some context is offered inside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nameless Grace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SilentP](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentP/gifts), [LeggyStarscream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeggyStarscream/gifts).



> So, yeah, I ran into that headcanon post on Tumblr, and while I just like it for these two in general, I felt the need to incorporate it into this 'verse? For some reason?
> 
> For people who are reading other parts of the series, this takes place before chapter 6 of _Impasse_.
> 
> For people with no interest in the rest of the series, this takes place in a 'verse with a strict caste system still in place on Cybertron. Greenlight and Lancer were in the same caste and became conjuges, but then Lancer was allowed to enter the caste above them for reasons (that at time of posting have not fully been revealed). The mechs in charge of making this decision weren't aware of their marriage, so now they have a taboo, cross-caste relationship.

            Greenlight unplugged herself from Lancer’s processor and reeled in her transfer cable. Lancer rebooted softly, her optics blinking on. She stretched, popping the extended stillness from her joints. “You done in there?” mumbled Lancer, still a little groggy from the partial shutdown.

            It wasn’t uncommon for Greenlight to borrow her conjunx’s helmspace while she was working out a particularly difficult solution. Lancer would put herself in a state of lowered processor activity in the meantime, closing off parts of her that might become a distraction, although she made sure Greenlight still had access to helpful sections of her processor like her scientific knowledge and logical center.

            “Yeah, I think I have some ideas.” Greenlight turned away from Lancer before she could see the frown on her faceplate, hiding her expression by focusing on updating her datapad. She had a few plausible formulas to try on the acid pellet gun project, though it was still a matter of testing them.

            The best ideas still came with their flaws: casings for the pellets needed to stay in-tact long enough not to melt the gun barrel but still burst on their target, while coatings for the barrel had to be strong enough to withstand repeated use of the gun. She had ideas that accounted for friction and pressure and weather conditions, but it all felt so obvious and temporary. It was frustrating.

            As much as she tried to hide it from Lancer, it didn’t seem to be effective. Greenlight could feel optics on her dorsal plating, and before long, there was a soft push of concern through her E.M.-field. “I’m fine,” she said before Lancer could ask. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just work.”

            The berth shifted. At first, Lancer didn’t say anything. When she did speak, her voice was small. “Was it…not enough?”

            Greenlight felt a squeeze in her spark. She hadn’t meant to lay her own inadequacies on her conjunx. “It helped, really,” she said, saving her work and setting the datapad aside. “I just feel like I should be smarter than this, smart enough to figure things out without having to leach off of someone else’s intelligence.”

            “I _like_ sharing my processor with you.”

            Lancer was close enough that Greenlight could practically feel her against her chassis. Energy tingled between them, just enough to make Greenlight tense but not enough to be satisfying. She fought the urge to shiver.

            Greenlight shuttered her optics. “I like sharing processors with you, too, but I wish I was doing it because I _want_ to and not just because I _need_ to just to keep up with all the geniuses running around.”

            The first kiss landed at the base of her neck, and Greenlight couldn’t have stopped herself from shivering that time if she’d locked herself in stasis. Lancer brushed her lips down her conjunx’s spinal strut, each peck paced evenly all the way down. Her servos slipped up to Greenlight’s pauldrons, rubbing the tension away.

            Lancer nuzzled the side of Greenlight’s faceplate before pressing a kiss to her cheek. Greenlight twisted around to kiss her properly. Lancer cupped her conjunx’s faceplate and drew back to plant kisses on her forehelm and nasal ridge. She lowered herself onto the berth, hoisting Greenlight onto her lap.

            Looking down at Lancer, Greenlight couldn’t help but be struck by how lucky she was to have her. Lancer was perfection: beauty and grace, powerful intellect and raw strength, former scientist and current Elite Guard. As much as they both thought the Council could go frag themselves, a part of Greenlight couldn’t help thinking that maybe they were right about Lancer being too good for her—not because of the difference in caste, but because they could find out the next sol that Lancer was the reincarnation of Solus Prime and Greenlight wouldn’t be surprised.

            But Lancer looked up at her with complete and utter adoration in her optics, and then, she rolled her hips up, and Greenlight couldn’t give a flying frag about her doubts either. Lancer sent surges of pleasure through Greenlight’s circuits, and every time she thought it might stop before she was ready, Lancer sent a new shock to her systems until her vision fuzzed over with static and her joints started to lock up.

            They curled against each other, exhausted and satisfied. Lancer stroked Greenlight’s servos and hummed gently. Greenlight couldn’t remember the last time she felt as she did right then. She supposed it must have been the night after their engagement. They really had to do this more often.

            Eventually, she couldn’t ignore that little voice pestering her about what the Council would think anymore. The sharing of processors, discomforting enough to the average Cybertronian, would be even worse to those who pulled the strings: a scientist presuming the right to a piece of a noble; an Elite Guardsmech lowering herself to the level of science; a small step away, but one in a society where even the distance of those steps was dangerous to take. As much as she joked about the Council collectively dying of shock over their relationship, she knew actually testing that hypothesis was a risk she could never take.

            Perhaps Lancer felt her becoming troubled again because she kissed her forehelm and cradled Greenlight closer. Greenlight smiled and let herself be eased back out of her anxieties. Frag being a genius. She just had to be smart enough to smash her way to freedom for herself and her conjunx.


End file.
